


Meet Me in the Bluebells

by robinwritesallthethings



Series: Henry Cavill Characters [3]
Category: I Capture the Castle (2003)
Genre: Almost Arranged Marriage, F/M, Heavy Petting, Loss of Virginity, Reader-Insert, Romance, Stephen Colley Deserved Better, The Fluffiest Smut Ever Maybe, Vaginal Sex, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:02:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26852626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinwritesallthethings/pseuds/robinwritesallthethings
Summary: The time has come for you to marry, and you want to marry Stephen Colley.
Relationships: Stephen Colley/Reader
Series: Henry Cavill Characters [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1925797
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Meet Me in the Bluebells

Stephen Colley had worked on your family farm for as long as you could remember. He was a sweet boy, and he’d always treated you kindly.

You had recently turned eighteen. As a gift, he’d given you your favorite chocolate bar, a rare treat that you could only afford a few times a year, if even that. You knew he had spent almost all of his pocket money on it, and it had gotten you thinking.

Your father had hoped for a boy to take over the farm, but you were his only child. Now he was hoping you would marry some strapping young lad who could handle the work so he could live out the rest of his days relaxing.

You couldn’t think of a better candidate than Stephen. He was twenty, so not that much older than you. He was a hard worker, he loved the farm, and the chocolate, combined with his many other gestures over the years, made you think that he probably loved you too.

And you loved him, you’d realized. At first, you’d thought it was just a crush, but it had stood the test of years and your feelings weren’t diminished. In fact, they were increased.

One afternoon, you find yourself staring at him as he works by the barn. He really is beautiful. Like all the Greek gods rolled into one.

Then your father’s surprise visitors arrive. Suitors from town. You blush and receive them all just as you’re supposed to while Stephen stands to the side with an alarmed look on his face.

Thankfully, your father doesn’t require you to make a decision right away. He informs you that he’s going to ponder the choices, and you should do the same.

You take a deep, stunned breath, putting your hand on your chest to try and keep your beating heart inside of it. Stephen brings you some water, looking at you worriedly.

“Are you all right?” he asks.

You shake your head. “How can he expect me to pick a man from a line of random strangers?” you wonder. “That’s not the way to decide who to spend the rest of your life with.”

He smiles broadly. “So you didn’t think any of them were handsome, then?”

“Handsome?” you repeat. “I barely noticed. I was trying to listen to what they were saying, and it was all appalling.” You sigh and glance at him. “I prefer someone I know well, who is naturally good-looking to me because I also know their heart.”

He swallows and blushes a bright pink, staring back at you. “Miss…”

“Don’t call me that, Stephen,” you beg. “I’m hardly a lady.”

“I want to be respectful,” he murmurs, “like my mother taught me.”

“You are,” you assure him. “You always have been. But right now, Stephen, I need you to save me.”

He nods, thankfully seeming to understand what you mean. “Come walk with me,” he requests. “The bluebells are out.”

He’d brought you bluebells many times when he couldn’t afford any other gifts. You take his hand gratefully and let him help you to your feet.

He pauses at the water jug outside the door. For the first time, you notice the thin film of sweat on the back of his neck. He pours water over it to rinse himself off and you tilt your head curiously.

It isn’t warm right now, and he’d just stood inside all day. Seeing you receive all of those men vying for your hand so they could inherit your father’s land must have scared him more than you’d thought.

You walk towards the barn and he grabs a lantern, lighting it since the sun is low in the sky. Then he leads you into the trees toward the bluebells.

“It’s getting dark,” you observe unnecessarily, suddenly not sure what to say.

“I won’t let the flame go out,” he promises as you stop in the middle of a little clearing.

“I can smell the bluebells,” you whisper.

Your heart is beating fast all over again, but for a very different reason now.

“I can smell heaven,” he tells you, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

After a moment’s pause, he adds, “I’m sorry I couldn’t get you more for your birthday. I was saving up to get you a wireless, but then my mother needed several things, and the wheel on one of the carts broke, and…”

“You didn’t have to get me anything at all, Stephen,” you protest. “Please don’t feel bad about it.”

“It would have been my privilege, though,” he admits, setting the lantern down by the base of a tree.

He takes your other hand in his, holding both of them. “Holding your hand makes me feel so much better,” he laughs lightly. “Is it the same for you?”

“Yes.”

He bites his lip nervously, then leans forward and kisses you.

It’s a soft kiss, a sweet kiss. It’s just as you imagined his kiss would be, only better somehow.

“When you said you wanted me to save you, this is what you meant, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

He leans forward and kisses you again, more ardently this time, one of his hands coming up to cup the side of your neck. You’re both rather clumsy, having never kissed anyone before, but you still think it’s perfect.

He kisses you over and over. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

Then his lips move to your neck and his hands grip your waist. He kneels quickly, bringing you with him. Your knees sink into the spongy ground of the clearing as your mouths connect again.

His fingers graze a button on the front of your dress. “May I?” he manages to ask through kiss after kiss.

“Yes, Stephen.”

He fumbles with the button and it ends up popping off. He shuts his eyes briefly and stammers, “I’m so sorry. I’ll fix it.”

“I don’t care about the button, Stephen.”

He smiles at you, his blue eyes wide with happiness. “Right,” he breathes.

He lifts you gently into his arms and lays you down in the bluebells, cradling your head against his arm and kissing you again as he stretches out beside you. His hand finds your knee, then slides up, lifting your skirt.

When he touches the smooth patch of skin on your thigh that’s not covered by your stocking, he abruptly draws his hand back.

“What’s wrong, Stephen?”

“We mustn’t do this,” he reminds you, looking at you earnestly. “Please don’t let me do this.”

You want it. You want him. But you know how much it means to him to do things right. “I would never make you, Stephen,” you insist reassuringly.

He helps you up and straightens your dress, retrieving your lost button and slipping it into his pocket. He grabs the lantern and takes your hand, leading you back to the house and to your father’s office, where he does all of the paperwork for the farm.

Stephen pauses outside the door. “One more kiss for courage?” he begs, his words barely audible.

You rest your hand on his cheek and kiss him softly.

He nods and opens the door. Your father looks up at him expectantly as you wait, pressed against the wall, eagerly anticipating what’s about to happen.

“Well, what is it, Stephen?”

“I wish to marry your daughter, sir. I love her. I promise that I will always care for her.”

You can hear in his voice that he’s ready to fight for you, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

“Well, of course, Stephen. As long as she agrees.”

“I do,” you blurt out immediately, moving into the doorway.

“That’s settled, then,” your father decides.

You marry the very next week. After the ceremony, you lead Stephen back to the bluebell clearing. You’ve put several lanterns there.

He chuckles and joins you as you lay down in the exact position you’d been in when he stopped you.

“It wasn’t wrong, since we love each other,” he explains, dropping his forehead to yours. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, Stephen. You wanted to do things properly, and I appreciate that.”

“Why here?” he wonders. “You don’t want to be in your bed?”

He was going to live here and take over the farm from your father.

“I want to finish what we started, and I want to be alone with you, Stephen.”

“Of course. My wife gets whatever she desires.”

He kisses you and gently lifts your skirt. This time, when his hand finds the bare skin of your thigh, he keeps going.

“You’re warm,” he whispers reverently.

“Because of you, Stephen. I love you.”

“I love you.”

What you do next is clumsy as best, but it’s wonderful. You think you’ll want to feel his mouth on your breasts and his hardness inside you every day for the rest of your life.

Especially when something inside of you clenches and you flutter around him and he moves faster, his hips stuttering before he buries himself deep and spills inside of you.

He falls asleep beside you shortly after. You know he’s exhausted. He’s done nothing but work to make the farm perfect for your wedding and after.

He stretches contentedly in his sleep, smiling. You smile too, brushing his hair back. He wakes slowly and beams up at you.

“It will be too cold if we don’t go in soon,” he reminds you.

“I know.”

He kisses you, then rises, snuffing all of the lanterns. After, he picks you up, holding you against his chest tenderly.

He carries you inside and lays you in your bed, setting a sprig of bluebells in a small vase on your nightstand. You hold out your arms for him and he joins you.

As he kisses you, he gets as close as possible. “Can we do it again?” he wonders.

“Whenever you want, Stephen.”

“We’ll have lots of babies,” he chuckles.

“I want to,” you agree.

You can’t believe that he’s yours for the rest of your life. But he is, and you know it’s going to be beautiful and fulfilling and perfect.


End file.
